


the vibe that separates

by bicroft



Series: SidGeno Tumblr Prompts [17]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 06:59:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13405902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bicroft/pseuds/bicroft
Summary: Sidney’s just about always had bruises.





	the vibe that separates

**Author's Note:**

> Woo!!! Soulmate AUs are literally my favorite things ever, and this one? Is just about my favorite subset of it: mark sharing! Or, bruise sharing, as it were in this case. 
> 
> This was requested for the AU prompt meme by an anon on tumblr!! And, the title was taken from Bruises by Train.

Sidney’s just about always had bruises. 

 

He was a kid, first, and kids  _ always  _ have bruises; he’d run around and get bumps and scrapes and then, when he started playing hockey, they started becoming more and more frequent- not because of other  _ people  _ just yet. That would come later, and in scores. But, how he got them wasn’t the point- the point was, Sid had  _ always  _ been bruised in his day to day, and it had pretty much always been impossible to pick out which bruises were his, and which were his soulmate’s. 

 

They both seemed to get beat up about the same amount, and that was concerning, for awhile, until things evened out and Sid just figured that he probably wasn’t the only person who played a sport in the world. And  _ that  _ made sense; he wasn’t much for socialization, and sports was about the only area he could really relate to people in. It’d make sense if his soulmate was at least a little bit the same. 

 

The farther Sid got along in his career, though- about around the time the league back home got to be too small, and too dangerous- the less he had time to think about what his soulmate might be like, or what  _ having  _ a soulmate might even be like. He was old enough now that people had started finding each other, that when he went to Shattuck there were guys who would always be talking about the girls they had back home, or who they’d just found while they were there. He could’ve been jealous- probably was a little bit, deep down, but really, he just never got it. He wasn’t as cynical as to think that having a soulmate held someone back in life, but, he couldn’t fathom having room for playing  _ and  _ keeping up some kind of cosmically significant relationship. 

 

(And, he was starting to figure, maybe he wasn’t that much into girls, anyway.) 

 

By the time he’d gotten to Rimouski, he’d stopped paying attention to the bruises all together, his or not. 

 

And that- worked. It worked for years; he stopped getting questions about ‘any girls back home?’ after his rookie year, when it became very clear that there wasn’t one, and wouldn’t be any further details on that in the foreseeable future. The team was a little bit harder to ward off, but that was normal; guys ribbed each other about stuff like that all the time, soulmates, bruises, picking up here and there. All he did was smile and laugh and rib back when appropriate, and no one really pushed. A lot of guys were already bonded, anyway; Flower, especially, was one of those high school loves who’d known forever- he was a little bit harder to ward off than anyone else on the team, but that was because he was stupid and French and overly romantic, and liked to ask Sid soul-searching questions that Sid only answered because even if he  _ was  _ stupid, French, and overly romantic, he was also probably Sid’s best friend. 

 

“You don’t even  _ want  _ to know?” was Flower’s favorite questions. 

 

Sid would always shrug. “I’d be cool to,” he said. “But- I’m not looking, y’know? It’ll happen when it’s supposed to.” 

 

“I’ve never thought of you as the type to let yourself be a victim of fate,” Flower said, and Sid just shrugged again, because he was right. He  _ hated  _ leaving things up to the cosmos, but, he didn’t know how to explain how he felt, otherwise. Saying he was  _ scared  _ to look was stupid; there was no reason for him to be scared of his soulmate. Even if that’s what it was, a little. 

 

Eventually, even Flower gave it up, for the most part. It wasn’t because he got tired of asking, though- it was because then came Geno, and asking Sid about  _ Geno _ feelings became more interesting than asking him about  _ soulmate  _ feelings. 

 

There was never really any overlap between the two, either; Sid kept not tracking bruises, because really, there were almost too many to look at at this point, even if he  _ wanted  _ to know. He took a lot of hits, and it seemed his soulmate did, too, so it probably meant that they kept playing sports, too- if sports were even the reason for the bruises in the first place. But, his soulmate was his soulmate, and Geno was Geno, and as much as the sliver of Sid’s heart that he could still consider a little bit into the idea of having them be the same person wanted it to be so, it wasn’t. There was a certain point through the hoping that they would’ve probably known, if that were the case. 

 

_ Probably _ , Sid had to quantify now, because he’d just let his toothbrush drop from his mouth into the sink of the hotel bathroom he was standing in as he stared wide-eyed at the massive purple bruise just under his eye that had absolutely  _ not  _ been there the night before-- that had absolutely not even been  _ forming  _ the night before, because Sid hadn’t taken a hit to the face the night before. Apparently, then, his soulmate had. 

 

_ Geno  _ had taken a hit to the face the night before. 

 

It was one in a million, Sid knew; there were a lot of people who probably got punched in the face last night- hell, there were probably at least half a dozen players spread across the NHL and AHL who had, and it would make just about as much sense for him to think that it was Geno as it would for him to think that it was one of them. The only difference was, Sid  _ wanted  _ it to be Geno. 

 

He stared at the bruise for a bit longer, and frowned.  _ Anyone _ , he reminded himself,  _ it could be anyone _ . 

 

He still got dressed, and went to knock on Geno’s door. 

 

It took half a minute of insistent knocking to get Geno to answer the door, and when he did, he looked annoyed and tired, glaring at Sid with rampant bedhead. Sid couldn’t really focus on that for long, though, because Geno also had a bruise-  _ his  _ bruise, the same bruise he’d just been staring at. 

 

“What?” Geno asked- snapped, really. “Is  _ early _ , Sid- why you’re wake me up, just to stare at me?” 

 

“You’ve, uh-” Sid said, sounding a little distant to his own ears. “You’ve got something on your face.” 

 

Geno frowned. “Is joke?” he said. “You’re- you’re wake me up early to tell me a joke? Sid, you sick?” 

 

Now it was Sid’s turn to frown. “ _ No _ ,” he said. “I just- I needed to see your face.” 

Geno’s frown morphed into a smirk. “I’m know it’s a good face, Sid,” he said. “But, could wait few hours? Not have to be up until  _ noon _ .”

 

“No, the bus is  _ leaving  _ at noon,” Sid said, because he was still the captain, even if he was having a crisis, and as much as he- well, probably  _ loved  _ Geno, he was always gonna be peeved by how late he was to everything. “And, I came because I wanted to see if you had anything on your face.” 

 

“You’re sure you’re not sick?” Geno asked, concerned now, and frowning again. “You’re have bruise- you get hit in the head last night? Need to go see someone?” 

 

“I didn’t get hit in the face last night,” Sid said, annoyed now, because Geno wasn’t  _ getting  _ it. “It isn’t my bruise.” 

 

“Oh,” Geno said. “Soulmate’s bruise?” 

 

“Your bruise,” Sid said, probably more accusatory than was strictly needed. 

 

Geno blinked at him, and then gaped. “I’m- my bruise?” he said, reaching up to touch his own face in to where the bruise was and hissing a little bit, probably in surprise, and pain. Sid felt the phantom echo of the touch on his own skin, and couldn’t help but shiver. 

 

“Your bruise,” he echoed. Geno just kept staring at him. 

 

“You’re- should probably come in,” he said finally, so Sid did, and it wasn’t until Geno closed the door behind him that he realized that he really didn’t have a plan for this. He didn’t have a soulmate plan in the first place, and he only had a  _ Geno  _ plan if you could count dreams as plans, and he most definitely didn’t have a  _ Geno is my soulmate _ plan, because that had always been to absurd to even dream of. 

 

When he finally turns to face him, feels bad that he’s a little relieved that Geno doesn’t look like he’d planned for this, either. “I’m not know what to say,” he said, voice soft, and his hand still resting on his bruise.

 

“You don’t have to say anything, if you don’t want to,” Sid said quickly. “It’s not- I don’t want you to feel like this has to mean anything you don’t want it to mean.” 

 

“That  _ I’m  _ not want it to mean,” Geno echoed, following it with a humorless laugh. “Not about what I’m want, Sid; what I’m want is selfish.” 

 

“Be selfish, then,” Sid said, turning from Geno to pace. “I don’t- I can’t say I know first hand what- soulmate politics, or whatever you want to call it is like in Russia, but I know that, if we did anything, it would end worse for you than it would for me if someone found out.” 

 

“I’m want it anyway,” Geno said. Sid could barely hear him, he said it so quietly,  but he stopped in his tracks when he did. 

 

“You-” 

 

“I’m want it anyway,” Geno said, louder and more sure. His voice wobbled a little bit, but he met Sid’s gaze, and that, at least, was steady. “I’m want for- for since I’m meet you, Sid. Is selfish part.” 

 

“Oh,” Sid said, because what the fuck else  _ was  _ there to say? This was a part of the Geno-dreams that he’d always expected to say in his dreams. 

 

“If you’re not want, we’re just- can just forget, or can not do anything,” Geno said, dropping his gaze now and staring at his feet. “But. I’m want, if you’re want.” 

 

“Of course I do,” Sid said. He sounded broken- he  _ felt  _ a little broken; none of this was really computing. Maybe he was still in his bed, and he hadn’t woken up yet? “Of course I want to, I just. I know it’s a huge risk, for both of us, but especially for you. And I’d never want to be the reason that- I don’t know. That you couldn’t go home every summer or something.” 

 

“Pittsburgh is home, too,” Geno said. “And-  _ you’re  _ home, too, little bit. Not like we’re have to tell whole world off the bat, either. We can just- keep quiet for as long as we’re can, or want, and then… tell world when we ready.” 

 

Sid stared at him for awhile, just thinking- he should probably have sat down on the bed or something, really, or suggested that they both take the ride home, or  maybe the weekend, or maybe a year or two, to think about it. But, Sid was human, and Sid  _ wanted  _ this, just as much as he wanted another Cup, or to be at the top of his game. 

 

“Okay,” he said after what felt like an eon of silence. “Okay. Okay, we- we can just keep it to us, for now.” 

 

“You’re want?” Geno said, his head shooting up again, expression equal turns hopeful and surprised. 

 

“I’ve wanted to for years,” Sid said. “And, I would have wanted to even if I didn’t wake up with your stupid face bruise.” 

 

Geno laughed, and maybe it was a little hysterical, but Sid felt a little hysterical, too, so he didn’t call him on it. Not that he would have had the time to even try, because within a second, Geno was across the room and kissing him, and Sid couldn’t have thought about anything else even if he wanted to.

 

“I should probably go make sure I have my stuff together,” he said when they pulled back, resting their foreheads together and going crosseyed to try and look Geno in the eye. 

 

Geno made a plaintive noise. “Stay?” he asked. “Please.” 

 

“I have to go find a way to cover up this bruise if we’re gonna be keeping this on the downlow, G,” he said, but Geno was pulling a puppy dog face, and he already knew that his weakness to that expression was going to become a pillar of their relationship. 

 

“I’ll be back, I promise,” he said. “I’m not gonna let us  _ both  _ be late, though,” 

 

“I’m not miss bus,” Geno said, snaking his arms around Sid’s waist and huffing. “You’re never let me. Stay, Sid; I’m just… can’t believe is happen, yes? Need to process, but… don’t want to let you go.” 

 

And, fuck, Sid didn’t really want Geno to let him go, either. “Okay,” he finally sighed. “Yeah, I’ll stay awhile.” 

 

Geno’s grin was blinding, and Sid couldn’t help but laugh as he stepped back and tugged them both towards the hotel bed, pulling Sid down on top of him. “I’m sleep some more,” Geno hummed, already yawning. “Wake me up before we’re have to go, yes?” 

 

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Sid said, even though he probably should’ve been making Geno get up, because there was no way they had more than a few hours before they had to go. 

 

“Best,” Geno hummed, leaning up to press a kiss to Sid’s forehead and, almost before his head hit the pillow, he was snoring. How G always managed to get to sleep so fast, he’d never understand. 

 

It was easier than Sid thought it would be, from there, to get comfortable, and doze off himself- and, in the end  _ they  _ both ended up late for the bus, garnering a few odd looks from their fellow teammates. Luckily, none of them seemed to notice- or, if they did notice, care to comment on- his and Geno’s matching bruise. And, when he sat down next to him, and Geno reached out to take his hand out of sight of the rest of the bus, he couldn’t bring himself to care about what any of them thought, either. 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, find and prompt me @sidsknees on tumblr!! We may or may not have a snow day tomorrow, so, I'm gonna see about working on a lot of my fics this week. <3


End file.
